District 3 Awakening: The Silence

The Silence by Bastille

Tell me a piece of your history

That you're proud to call your own

Speak in words you picked up

As you walked through life alone…

Note: Several changes have been made to the blogs.

Electra Ivie is now Electra Ross.

Mercedes Fenton died before Mechanist became Victor.

Mimzi and Caleb have been added to the blog, along with the other Gamemakers and the Echoes.

Althee Auble (24) D3 Victor of the 92nd Games

"C'mon Althee! You are like a way better mentor I ever was." Electra smiles and looks down at her half eaten croissant, her blue eyes bright. I give her a forced shrug and bring the warm mug of hot chocolate to my thin lips, letting the warmth of the chocolate relive my exhaustion. The ever-lingering thought of the Games begin to freeze my thawing body.

Cold

Dark

Dangerous

"Just look at Dolly Westever. A Career District without a win for nine years. That's probably the longest they've gone without a Victor…"

"I don't care about them. I only care for my babies."

She sighs and straightens herself in her loveseat. "You can't think of them as your kids. You're just hurting yourself more."

"I-I know…" The corners of my eyes begin to sting and well with the tears that never stop flowing. "They just depend on me so much…"

Ever since my Games, Electra and I were close, despite me being thrown into the Games. Even with the stress of the Games, she always managed to light a smile on my face or make me laugh at her adventures when she was a kid. Electra had always wanted kids, more than anything. She even stopped taking her birth control medication when she was sent to the Capitol for her, ahem, duties that President Echo made her do as part of the 'deal'. She never did conceive a child, not after a month or the months after. 'Then I met you and that made all the difference,' she said to me after I had awakened in the hospital room after my Victory. I was her saving grace, the child she never had…

"You'll get lucky, Althee. You always do."

I scoff and look up at her, her face shining bright despite the darkness and sins that reside in her, in all of us. The rare species that are held on the highest pedestal, famed for killing innocents.

"Your luck got you this far after all… even when Baxter sacrificed himself for you."

My breath catches in my throat at the mention of his name, Baxter Levitt. My district partner who, on his dying breath, with blood trickling down his chapped lips told me to take his stuff and hide in a small, reclusive cave he found while scavenging the Arena. He had tasted some berries, dark red ones he said that had caused him to bleed internally. This berry bush had been another miracle in my path as the Careers feasted on it, an easy win for a District 3 girl with no chance.

I shake my head from the thoughts.

Electra blurts, making me jump from my seat. "So what do you think of the twist this year? Pretty crazy, huh?"

I shrug again, looking out the window of the café as a light summer rain begins to descend from the sky, tiny droplets dotting the window. "I don't know… seems… nostalgic."

She cocks her head to the side and furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, everyone's going to watch this year. They're going to want to see if their friend, or sibling, or even parent is brought back. Everyone's going to want to know if they win the second chance they were given…"

Electra just smiles and wipes away a tear that streaks down her face, her baby smooth skin with signs of aging that she insists aren't there. "That's why you're by my side. To make me see things differently," she exclaims, her arms shooting out and waving them towards the ceiling.

I nod and smile as she laughs, musical and reassuring of the small amount of hope that resides in me. "You brought an umbrella, right?"

"…. No."

"I asked you to bring one!"

She giggles and stands up from the loveseat, pointing her index finger at me. "You're the one who shouldn't rely on me to remember!" She puts on a serious face and pouts, she soon smirks and begins laughing again. I soon feel her small hand on my shoulder and chest pressed up against me.

"You are too serious, Alth. You need to lighten up a bit or you'll go crazy."

"I feel like I already am…"

She turns me around slowly and tightens her lips. "I will not stand here and let you say that about yourself. You are the sanest Victor ever, like, not even Mercedes can amount to you."

I feel warmth flush my skin. "Stop…"

"It's true," she whispers as she brings her hand off my shoulder and strides over to the coat rack and puts on her pink sweater. "You know it's surprisingly cool for it being summer." She frowns as she collects her beret and my light wool sweater.

"A beret, really? What are you, like sixteen?"

"Ha. I am a very stunning twenty-one, Miss Auble."

"…"

"… Fine. Thirty- seven, happy?"

"Yes." I laugh as I open the front door to the café open to find the rain had died down to a foggy mist. Electra curtsies and walks out.

"Can you believe what money and fame can buy you? Your own personal café!" She seems to float across the street in a daze, her swift and elegant movements graceful to all those who take note.

"You're too excited for this…"

"I'm not excited, I'm just happy."

"Happy for what!? You shouldn't be happy for anything!" I can feel the anger and hurt stirring inside me, a brew unwanted; full of hate for being dealt the wrong hand.

She turns around slowly and bites her lip. Her blonde hair cascades down her face, trying to conceal the tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Think about the twenty-three children who died." Her voice cracks and she clears her throat, her voice becoming low and serious. "Would they want you to be moody and depressed all day? To throw your life away?"

I bow my head ashamed of my outburst. She's right of course. I shouldn't disrespect their sacrifice, but it's so hard. Especially when all I see is horror…

"I understand, but I choose to look on the bright side. Seeing the small happiness in my life is enough for me to keep going, even when sometimes I feel stuck."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She smiles, her teeth shining. "Just be happy. Happy that you get to live to see another day."

I quickly nod and rub my hands together, trying to keep warm amidst the cool front. "Okay."

"Good." She shakes her head and continues down the street. "Now that we're done being serious… how about we talk about boys?"

I groan and face palm myself. Same old Electra. "You never grew up, did you?"

"Of course. Don't you see these lines on my face, and look! A grey hair," she moans as she uncovers a single strand of hair from her blonde locks, a steel grey that shines dully against her face.

"That's nothing. Plus, you could always dye it."

"But people will see that I'm old!" She exclaims as she waves her arms around. Her lips begin to purse in a pout and she crosses her arms.

"Hey, you're being serious…"

"…"

"…"

"Touché."

"Well I better head to the Justice Building."

"Don't think you're running away from my topic, Althee. Now how about those gorgeous significant others we call… hunks."

"Electra!"

She laughs and lifts her head up, high enough to make her seem haughty. "I only speak the truth. Men are delicious."

"… I'm glad I'm single."

"No you're not! You need a man in your life!"

"I have my brothers."

"You can't have sex with your brothers, Alth. That's like, incest."

"…!"

"What!? It's true!"

"I don't need guys…"

"Pssh. That's only what virgins would say."

"…"

"…"

" … You're not… a virgin, right," she asks, her voice almost strained.

I don't answer. The thought of boys didn't cross my mind after I won, not even the threat of prostitution since President Echo never bothered to ask.

Electra suddenly digs her hand into her white handbag and pulls out her cellphone and flips it open. Her blue eyes dart quickly across the screen, her face scrunched up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to call my nephew, Kyle. Us Rosses are known for one thing, getting the opposite sex in bed."

I sigh and shake my head looking up at the sky. Suddenly the realization that I still need to get to the Justice Building to meet the tributes stops me from protesting. "… Crap. What time is it?!"

She glances down at her watch and grimaces. "11:15."

"Shit. The train leaves in forty-five minutes."

"Better run, it's a good fifteen minutes from here."

Sprinting as fast as I can without saying goodbye to Electra, I run as fast as my two feet can carry me. Buildings and homes seem to blur together as my mind races with dark thoughts. The blood, the screams, the terrors… the sorrow…

The silence, deafening and treacherous. It eats you up, swallowing and devouring every hope and dream you have before you can even think of it. The silence after the twenty-three cannons that symbolized the end of life for the innocents who had lived and breathed sounded, I could no longer feel anything. Just the cold, empty silence that fills every pore, every ounce of my corrupted soul. I never thought such sorrow could occupy within oneself, ignorance is bliss, or rather… death.

Before I know it, I find myself panting heavily and against a large marble column of District 3's Justice Building. The white, ancient building stands not only with Capitol pride, but with many stories. Untold stories of despair and sorrow that seep through the very walls in which many so say their last goodbyes.

"Miss Auble!" A shrill voice calls from the entranceway. I jog up the steps and see a petite woman in her mid-forties standing with her hands on her waist. Her long black hair is held up in a large bun, which exposes her mousy features. "Your tributes are already awake and have said their goodbyes. They're a bit confused, but stable with the help of some medication."

I nod, trying to seem like a care about her rambling. "Okay."

"Good luck." She quickly scurries away towards the research center a couple blocks east and vanishes around a corner. Finally sighing from the pent up tension, I pull open the large doors with hesitant hands and the fresh smell of vanilla sugar wafts around me.

"Hello, Miss Auble. Your tributes are awaiting you, just go down this hallway and to the left." The secretary at the front desk drones as she slowly points to the long and pallid hallway to her left, my right. I wave her off and jog down the hallway I know oh too well. The walls a plain white and carpet a beige, the walls decorated with District 3 Victors since the Dark Days, only six. Hopefully one more this year…

I turn the corner and my eyes take shape a large room with a lot of science and medical equipment and supplies and the main focus: three teens. Rhea Katze, the female tribute of the 98th Games just stares at me. Her dark grey eyes, dull and unfocused, seem to glaze over me. Sadness? Remorse? Anger? She had gone far in the Games, very strategically gifted and quick. Only making it to the final 12 before falling to the District 2 male, Slade Klim. He had gained her affection and she ultimately paid for it, luckily for her, he didn't win. Victor Lucy Lovering of District 5 got her hands on him and the other Careers and, well, went up in flames.

"Rhea."

She grins and looks down again, her long dark brown hair covering her face. The next to catch my attention is Vetch Colhaine, the male tribute from last year's Games. His sight warms and sickens me. He was so brave, despite not knowing the horrors awaiting him. Selfless and kind, although not the brightest. Vetch had suffered the most brutal death that year, being torn to shreds by mutts. Even now his scars remain, crooked red lines appear all over his body. I remember not eating that day, or drinking. I was snapped out of my trance when Electra called, apologizing for my sake.

"Althee!"

Vetch runs up to me, his small arms outstretched and welcoming. I embrace him, his body fitting snug in mine and keep him there. Reaching a hand over his head, I pat his black hair feeling the softness beneath my fingertips, a nice feeling. He laughs and his big blue eyes shine as he looks up at me.

"It's nice to see you back."

"You too." I'm taken aback by his voice, usually he pronounces a word or two strangely. Plus his voice is a little deeper, could it be the procedure?

He leaves my side and goes to his monitor, reading his stats and Games history. Last to catch my attention is a boy with reddish, brown hair whose hazel eyes seem to fixate on the leg of a metal table. Confused, I take a few steps forward and my eyes widen at the discovery of an almost invincible string that looks to come from the boy's nightgown, considering that the bottom of his gown is fraying. I look up to see Vetch heading straight towards Rhea in the corner of the room, heading straight towards the other boy's trap.

Before I could conjure the words, Vetch dives into the ground and skids across the floor. The other boy starts to laugh, snorting like a pig and slapping his knee.

"Vetch! Are you okay?!"

A low groan comes from him and he turns around revealing a bloody nose. I quickly rush to his side and watch as he begins to cry. He grasps at his knee and I lift up his gown to reveal a large purple bruise and underneath the skin, tiny bumps almost like gravel and watch in horror as a piece catches my eye. Part of his knee cap is sticking out from his skin, bone white and sickening. I hold back bile and begin to cry. This is not how the first day is supposed to go.

"What a klutz."

I snap my head back to see the snarky boy twirling a piece of cloth in between his fingers.

"Care to give your mentor a hand?"

He smirks and begins to clap his hands, the sound making me fuming with anger and impatience for this bastard.

"Stop being a smartass and fucking help me carry Vetch!"

He snorts and goes to my side, lifting Vetch easily and slinging him over his shoulder. Vetch begins to whimper with every bounce he receives while on the older boy's back and both head to the back entrance where the train usually is. Cautious as to leave him alone with Vetch, I gather the tributes files and exit the room.

"Althee, that was quite sassy what you said to Macintosh… I like it."

I turn around and see Rhea leaning against the doorframe, her lips pulled back in a devilish smirk. She runs ahead of me and gingerly tightens her hands over a small pendant in her right hand. I begin my walk down the hallway, the one of many I've already done and watch as they climb onto the train, their faces drained and fearful. Even Macintosh looks on edge despite his trick back there.

As I finally ascend the metal steps and listen to the low sound of the train bellow its whistle, all I could think of was Rhea and Vetch. Sure I know them, mentored them, watched them die terrible deaths… but are they going to stay that way? I sure as hell not the same after my Games and I'm damn sure they aren't.

The Hunger Games changes you, whether you die or live. You can never escape its clutches, even in death…

A/N: Here are your tributes: Macintosh, Rhea, and Vetch. Also your District 3 Victors, Electra Ross and Althee Auble. Also huge thanks for those who added this story to their favorites/following and who reviewed :D

Attention to artists who have a Deviant Art account: I'm looking for someone who would be interested in making a cover pic for this story. If you know anyone who would be interested just PM me :)

1. Who is your favorite tribute so far? Least?

2. Team Electra or Team Althee and why.

3. Which District do you want to see next?

Love Always, Domi